


Crazy

by khaleesian



Series: Furious kink meme [4]
Category: Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 12:50:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khaleesian/pseuds/khaleesian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the 2011 kink meme. The prompt was: In Fast and Furious when Braga asks Dom and Brian if they know each other, what if instead of saying 'He used to date my sister' Dom decided not to make Brian's undercover assignment easy for him and mess with his head a little by saying 'We used to date' instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crazy

_Oh, you fucker._  Brian thought, trying to swallow a mouthful of beer without choking. He managed to get it down with only one incredulous wheeze. Dom raised his eyebrows; his face innocent and smooth in the yellow light.   
  
Brian flicked a glance at Campos who had frozen with his own mouthful of tequila un-swallowed. Campos’ dark eyes were momentarily huge and his cheeks were puffed out slightly with the sip he wasn’t taking. Brian covered his slightly hysterical chuckle by clearing his throat. At least fucking Fenix wasn’t here for Dom’s little revelation. The fucker.   
  
“I see.” Campos gulped his tequila, and cleared his own throat. “Is that so?”  
  
Naturally, he addressed Brian. Campos was very carefully  **not**  looking at Dom who was sitting only a few feet to his right. Maybe Campos thought gay was catching.   
  
“Yeah,” Brian slouched further back in his corner of the sofa. He caught the slight twitch of Dom’s upper lip. No one else in the room knew that Dom wasn’t suppressing a sneer. He was suppressing a laugh.   
  
Brian took another cool sip of his beer, and then looked up at Campos like it had just occurred to him. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”   
  
At that, Dom shifted his weight appreciably so that even out of his peripheral vision, Campos had to know that Dom was looking at him. Dom’s mouth was slightly quizzical, but his eyes were hard. Brian brushed his thumb over his upper lip to hide his own smirk. They were about to get kicked out of here or they were going to force Campos to lie and right at this moment, Brian was comfortable with either option.   
  
“Nah, I mean…” Campos spread his hands generously. “What you do on your own time is…” He made a vague gesture.   
  
Dom paused with a bottle half an inch from his lips and arched an inquiring eyebrow. Campos glanced at Dom and finished weakly. “Very much your business.”  
  
The woman on Brian’s left shifted a few inches away. Perversely, Brian was grateful for a little more room to breathe.   
  
Campos muttered something under his breath. All Brian caught was ‘ _están chingando contigo_ ’.  
  
“No.” Dom responded as if Campos had actually spoken. “Not fucking with you.”   
  
Campos made another helpless gesture. “But you’re professionals, right? I hope it wasn’t a…”  
  
Campos paused, wet his lips, and then grinned. “…bad break-up, ese?”  
  
“Ah, you know.” Brian tried to find a place to rest his hands that wasn’t quite so close to his crotch. The slouch wasn’t working so he leaned forward. “I just wanted to…see other people.”   
  
Brian watched Dom’s thumb twitch on the neck of his beer.  _Two can play at this game, Dominic._  “And he’s the jealous type.” Brian tilted his beer toward Dom in a sardonic toast.  
  
Dom shook his head slowly and quirked his chin at Braga. “Yeah, you can forget the white boys, man. They’re sluts.”  
  
“Man, I never stepped out on you.” Brian pointed at Dom, one accusing finger. “Take that back.”  
  
Campos’ eyes actually seemed to bulge for a second. His hand tightened on his shot glass. “Fellas, fellas. Tonight isn’t…about the past.” Campos raised his shot to eye level, focusing on the golden glow of it like it was an icon of the Madonna. “Here’s to putting all the pain in the rear-view mirror.”   
  
Brian glowered at Dom,  _slut, really?_  He sniffed at his tequila. Cuervo 1800. He wondered if Campos would spring for a bottle for the table. He was going to need it. Brian took his shot while still maintaining eye contact with Dom.   
  
Campos seemed to read his thoughts because he made a quick gesture that brought the waitress over with a fresh bottle. She pressed a glass into Dom’s hand with a smile and quick flash of her cleavage. Which Dom ignored completely and really, for Christ’s sake, Brian was going to hit him with a brick. This wasn’t funny.   
  
Campos was looking at him with a slightly horrified expression.   
  
Brian tried to smooth the scowl off his face. “What?”  
  
“I was just thinking.” Campos made a pained smirk. “…this kinda puts a whole new complexion on your time in County.”  
  
Brian could feel his jaw twitch before he could do anything about it.  
  
Luckily, Campos had already turned back to Dom, full of liquid courage. “You should maybe be nicer to your boy here. He’s probably been having a rough time.”  
  
Dom opened his mouth and Brian could tell that Dom was truly at the end of this charade, Dom didn’t have a clue as to which cutting remark would be most effective at humiliating Brian or making Campos’ jaw drop.   
  
Dom licked his lips and the ghost of a grin flitted over his face. “You know, you’re right.”   
  
Dom lounged back into his sofa, snaking one arm along the back, while beckoning with his other hand. “C’mon over here, baby. I take it back…I wasn’t being…fair to you.”  
  
Brian snorted and poured himself another shot. “Goddamned right you weren’t.”  
  
Campos was blinking like he was beginning to doubt his own sanity.   
  
“C’mon, don’t be like that.” Dom rocked his head and pouted his lower lip a little. “I’m really sorry.”  
  
Brian narrowed his eyes. There was no way that he was going to be the one to blink first. He tossed off his shot and stood up so quickly that both Dom and Campos started. One long step around the table and he could slump on the couch next to Dom, dislodging some mini-skirted blonde who just tossed her hair and headed to the toilet with her girlfriend.   
  
Brian pillowed his head on Dom’s bicep and blinked up at him. “You mean it?”   
  
This close he could see the sheer panic in Dom’s eyes, but Dom just tightened his arm around Brian’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “Of course I do.”  
  
Brian sighed and dropped one hand to Dom’s thigh. “You really think I’m a slut?”   
  
They were starting to get looks now. Two women on the dance floor in Brian’s sight line were nudging each other repeatedly. Brian watched the vein in Dom’s forehead throb. Dom set his beer down and Brian tensed all his abdominal muscles involuntarily.   
  
But Dom just stroked one finger along Brian’s cheek. “You make me so crazy, I say all kinds of crazy shit.”  
  
Campos stood up, pressing his fist to his lips. “The club is yours fellas, booze...uh, anything you want, just ask.”  
  
Brian didn’t even have time to mutter a thank you before Campos vanished. Brian sat frozen, practically half in Dom’s lap before reality crashed down again.   
  
“Fuck you very much, Toretto.” Brian snarled, ignoring the fact that Dom’s arm was still wrapped around his back. “One of us is plenty crazy and check this: it ain’t me.”  
  
“Unbunch your panties, O’Conner.” Dom still had him, but good. One hand on his shoulder, the other on his thigh. “You should be so lucky.”  
  
“What the fuck are you doing?” Brian jabbed his thumb in Dom’s wrist and bought himself four inches of space. The girls on the dance floor tittered. Obviously, the one thing more interesting than lovers was a lovers’ quarrel.   
  
“Maybe I’m just showing them what a pussy bitch you are.” Dom purred this poison, tilting his chin down to look deep into Brian’s eyes.   
  
Brian felt like his bones were melting into pure, lava-hot rage. He contemplated the satisfaction of punching Dom in the diaphragm or the mouth. He wanted to start the mother of all brawls. But that was exactly what Dom was expecting. “I think you’re mistaking just who the bitch is here.”  
  
Brian tilted his own chin down and pressed his lips to Dom’s. It was close-mouthed, but not chaste. Brian feathered one hand down the back of Dom’s neck and kissed him thoroughly. And it was so worth it: Dom’s full mouth tight with shock, his surprised little choked-off grunt. Dom’s mouth was so warm and soft and he seemed to be too stunned to recoil.   
  
Brian pulled back and leered into Dom’s round eyes. He chucked Dom under the chin and stood up. He was halfway across the club before Dom found his voice again.   
  
“You know what’s worse than being accused of a crime, O’Conner?” Dom called. Brian turned back and Dom raised his beer. “Being  _falsely_  accused.”   
  
“Yeah? You got a beef, you should call your lawyer.” Brian stalked off. He had enough on his plate without cryptic statements from Dominic Toretto. _The fucker._


End file.
